Punisher Challenge
by NerdsAlterEgo
Summary: An alternate version of Frank Castle lands in the world of Sonic 06, along with all his weapons. He realises this world needs a Executioner and he sets his mind to bringing justice to Solenia, all while being watched by GUN as his signature Beretta rips through its underground. Will he fall to darkness or be the light the monarchy needs? You decide?


The gangster trembled in fear as he stared at the man clad in a black Kevlar vest, a black jacket and black pants who had come to kill him. The man pointed his Automag heavily modified pistol at him and let his finger touch the trigger. The ganster nearly shit himself.

"Look man, I don't know you.."

The man's finger wrapped around his gun. " You and three other goons were accomplishes in the gang-rape of a little girl. She was only 14, and yet you either did it or sit back and watched as it happened. Who is the other man?"

 _My name is Tadayoshi Saruwatari. I was a solider once, in the event known as Tacky's Rebellion. Served in the regular Army, then joined the Marines. Jamaica was a brutal place, blacks ruling over other blacks using fear and violence and enforcing feudalism through slavery. If you were white you were just unlucky back then. Whites made up 90% of Europe's population. The rest were blue bloods, descendants of the Negroid Roman Empire and Israeli refugees. I saw it all, little white kids working like animals when the slaves got rest and shelter. No wonder the whites began to hate all blacks._

 _After the war I returned home to West Africa and became a Special Forces instructor. Didn't like what was going on, so I joined the then growing NYPD. Crime was at an all time high as Romantic drug lords and crime syndicates fought each other for control of the streets. A lot of slaves were getting pissed off at what was happening and many of them left the plantations when they heard of what was really happening in the Great Houses. Many of them became informants. As a police officer I tried my best to be fair and reasonable, but wasn't afraid to deal with the scum that thought themselves rulers of all of Europe._

 _Then my big break came. We managed to arrest an Italian warlord who had control over several plantations. We got slave owners and slaves to testify about his activities, which lead to life sentencing for many Cosa Nostra members in the isocubes. A few years after that, I left and got married. It was the perfect life...but it was about to be ruined._

 _Celtic slave traders found the place and raided it, taking whom they saw fit for use in the money-drainers and cash cows called plantations. They took my wife and daughter, and had a PMC merc shoot me with a musket to make it look like tribal warfare between savages. Lucky thing my vest was there. The Italian hitman and the white pasty with him both ended up with bullet holes._

"Look man, she's just a nigger! As in you know, "white" not "African-American". What could be so important..."

"Scum like you are the reason why the world went to hell. You murder people for fun and then blame whoever is unlucky to see you for the deed. Well, hell's always there for you racist mother...,"

"Please no...BANG!"

A single round clattered to the floor, and a gust of wind swept through the room. When the police robots arrived Antonio Lugisavi was already bleeding on the polished floor, dead when the bullet splattered his brains all over the wall.

 _It was then I realized that Jamaica was not the problem. It was the crime syndicates living tax-free in massive houses supposedly owned by their serfs, who were seen as less than animals and given what was left after their landlords split up the profits of monoculture into what was given to the slaves for food and equipment as well as what was "Negroes Only". It was the "racial" and class tension between the divided middle class that was created by slavery, the impoverished and angry whites and the cruel nobility. It was getting out of hand, and no one had the balls to even stand up and stop it._

 _(_ Tadayoshi's Era, European Port, Asanteland _)_

The bouncer frowned as his blue eyes examined the tall African clad in a black trenchcoat, a black T-shirt and black pants. The man had anger blazing in his seemingly calm eyes and was calmly standing there, as if he didn't know that the club was run by the Alessandro Nervi of Sicily. He went for the semi-automatic in his pants, shocking the few whites inside and the many waiting to come inside.

"Look asshole, I think you're going to have to move.."

What happened next was something from an Asian epic. The African flawlessly knocked the gun out of the bouncer's hand and delivered a spin kick that sent him crashing into the plush exterior. The blue bloods inside drew for their SMGs, but the man pulled out two strange crossbows and began to literally decorate the gangsters with cylindrical shafts, thunder booming as he fired the bows. The men jerked and lay still as the extra shafts clattered to the ground. A tall Romantic, his fancy clothes literally shredded, managed to get up and point his Walter weakly at the African. "Who the f.. are you man? You just come into our territory, kill what about ten of us and then walk away. Alessandro will never let you get away with this!," he sneered in public-school English.

"Dov'è il capo?" ( Where is your manager? )

"Look man, f..k you,"

BANG!

The shaft blew a hole in the polished floor near the man, causing him to swear lightly but still act macho, to protect his image. The crossbow found itself pointed at his forehead and he would have been dead if a medium height Dutch man, his mulatto wife and his family had not come in through the back. "What the hell is going on Gioacchino...who is this person?" the man pointed at the African. "How did he get in?"

"You're the boss of this fine nightclub, aye?"

"Uhuh, but I don't see what that has to do with me,"

" Tell the Burningham Destiny and their real boss Alessandro that death is coming for them and their associates. But on to the immediate present. As of now I'm offering a special on survival. One time only," the Dutch looked confused as the father translated it for them. "Come on, move it!"

The African fired two bursts to the ceiling to emphasize his point but no one moved. The whites were afraid of being framed, being enslaved or having former military men "rebel" on "their" plantations. When the African saw that most of the people had never seen real weapons before and had never seen someone stand up to their overlords, he spoke in a strangely accented English that sounded like what the English colonists in America now spoke , but was more developed.

"The club is closed now. Move it!"

The whites and mulattoes stampeded out of the club as the African placed C4 and proximity mines all over the place. He would have almost missed the shooters emerging from the back. But he turned around and the goons fell down dead as he fired.

"I hope we understand each other Mr. Warlord. Don't double-cross me,"

For many years the young heiress of Nottingham would try to figure out how exactly how this one African had managed to defeat a well-trained security force, with little more than crossbows and explosives.

 _That was my first part of the war against crime. The ports Europe had built on African soil were home to some of the most cruel deeds as slaves were sold and all sorts of illegal activity was happening, with the law ignoring it due to fear of retaliation. No one could stop the crime as everyone had something the slave kingpins knew. Dirty deeds cover up, you name it. With rage and the memory of my family fueling my hate of them I blasted my way through the West India Interest, their pasties the British secret police and the much-divided Imperial Army and made the streets of my country safe again. The slaves called me a hero as I had defeated several framing attempts, and their owners said I was the best thing for social justice since Martin Luther._

 _As time passed the war got more complicated. The Chinese and the English blacks were moving in on the drugs and arms trade, and as with the Italians the law lacked the power to punish and detain them. Again I appeared to save my country, my M-16 blasting them to hell while thermite and frags laid waste to their mansions. The mass media caught on to the war going on and secretly realized something good was happening as may criminals were being arrested and a lot of Atheistic Puritan operatives had defected to the West due to the corruption and greed in their nations. They called me.._

 ** _THE PUNISHER._**

 _"_ Mysterious vigilante strikes English drug haven, kills warlord and injures several other criminals including wanted racist and black supremacist Thomas Shiffer, who is wanted for crimes against mankind but has never been arrested. Local police refuse to talk but rumor has it that the attacker is indeed the Punisher, a serial killer who only targets criminals and never hurts the innocent,"

"Mafia branch arrested by police in Virginia after running away from "man in black,"

"Punisher: Friend or Foe?"

"Colonial detective James Harper believes deceased police detective Frank Castle is indeed the mysterious Punisher responsible for the deaths of over 100,100 criminals,"

 _But all this good ended when the Interest, reeling from the lost of its best and revealing its true nature with several anti-slavery activists being threatened, murdered or just out-right silenced decided to finish me off. I rushed into their fortress, believing I could stop them like always. But something happened and the entire base blew, sending me into a black void until I landed here, in the future._

 _The hero Sonic's doing some good, but it isn't enough. He can't stop every terrorist and thug from getting an AK-47 and hurting the common people, also he seems to be the stupid shining knight type who will put his code over justice. And a blue hedgehog isn't all that scary._

 _I am not above the law. I am just doing what the law is afraid to do._


End file.
